


Requiem Æternam

by Ivaleen



Series: Faith [1]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Brotherly Love, Faked Suicide, Gen, Hope vs. Despair, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Internal Monologue, Post-Azran Legacy, Prequel of my own work, Spoilers, struggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27542749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivaleen/pseuds/Ivaleen
Summary: At the end of Azran Legacy, Descole fell down the ruins. Descole is dead, and that clearly looked like a suicide. Hershel tries to figure out why he could have come to such lengths—after all, he had always found something to live by. Before he realizes it, it has been months since his brother disappeared, but he still does not feel better.
Relationships: Hershel Layton & Desmond Sycamore, Jean Descole & Hershel Layton
Series: Faith [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013166
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	Requiem Æternam

**Author's Note:**

> this is a prequel i have written for the other work in the series, "Lux Ex Tenebris" - just had a realization, and i decided i should write about how Layton dealt with his brother's fake death, offering you my point of view on that "end". hope you enjoy!  
> you can read it even if you didn't read the other work, it doesn't change much -- it's even more logical!

Hershel Layton still remembered. There was nothing he could do against it – the sight of his brother, falling in those ruins; the sight of the man he wanted so hard to forgive, the sight of the criminal he could not bear to blame. It was burned deep into his mind, forever.

In his nightmares, he was still here. In daylight, sometimes, he was seeing him standing, the same smile across his face than on the day he died. As soon as he feared he’d become delusional, everything faded away and he couldn’t see anyone anymore. Nothing helped, nothing eased the pain. Hershel did not understand why it hurt so much – before, he had been ready to go to extreme lengths to stop Descole, no matter the cost, no matter if it meant that they both had to risk their lives. At least, that was what he thought before they traveled together, before they saved humanity together.

After all, Descole had been nothing more to him than a stubborn and harmful man who had tried to kill him and his friends once, then twice, and then he’d lost the count.

In the span of a few hours, everything suddenly changed. Layton recovered his lost memories, he recovered his brother, he recovered his hopes. And just when he thought redemption was possible, Descole sacrificed himself for the well-being of all mankind – he showed that there was still humanity left in him. He proved Layton that he was right to _trust_ him.

He had never truly realized that he had _faith_ in the man, that he knew he could change. No one could surrender to darkness forever, Layton often thought. Sure, Descole was not an easy one to talk to, and he certainly was a handful, but something—anything, really—would have definitely stirred light in him.

That’s why Layton was certain of one thing, in those final hours: he _would_ forgive the man, no matter what his friends would say, no matter what he had done before. After all, he had not been the one pulling the strings all along.

But then everything went dark. He fell, he disappeared, and there was no hope for anything anymore. What had Layton been thinking? He had eventually looked at his own reflection in aversion. He was blaming himself for hoping that there could have been a change. Even if he had survived, his brother—or his nemesis—would probably have laughed at his face, if he had tried to show any compassion for him. Descole was not the kind of man who could just pretend nothing had never happened just moments after such a dangerous mission.

But maybe Desmond could have.

Both of them were gone now, though.

After he fell, there was nothing left.

Hershel could not stop thinking that it looked like a suicide. Maybe Descole was afraid and he just decided to hide that fact by addressing a final smile to his brother. But _why_ would have Descole decided to end it all? All these years, he had found something to live by, something to hope, something to ease his pain even if a little. Layton could not fathom why someone would take away their own life after having won a battle they had been fighting for thirty years. Was that the price he had to pay? He won, and everything had to be over? He could not believe it. He did not want to believe it. Besides, there was Raymond. Would he have let his faithful companion die that way? Something just didn’t felt right to Hershel.

He was being consumed from the inside by all these interrogations—interrogations to which he would surely never get an answer—and he did not know what to do. What _was_ he to do? He had considered getting in contact with Raymond, but he felt that would be a strange move to do. He did not even know where to find the old man.

His dear friend Luke had witnessed a change of heart in the usually cheerful professor, but he hadn’t found the courage to ask him what it was about. It was always thus: he did not believe his place was to pry, no matter how much Layton would have needed a listening ear. The professor would not have dared confessing to his young friend either way—Luke was still a kid, too innocent to be bothered with sentimental thoughts of that kind.

It had been months now—five, to be exact. Hershel felt that he had missed something: maybe his brother had returned, maybe it was all a nightmare, and he hadn’t been told. After all, why would he? Descole wouldn’t bother sending a letter to warn him that he was still alive! If anything, he would have been able to impersonate Desmond Sycamore once more to bring down some other kind of organization Hershel hadn’t heard of—or had forgotten about, for that matter. At the very least, he did not put that past him.

But above all, he wanted to believe in him. The trust he put in his brother was more important than baseless conjecture. He wanted to believe something would eventually change. There had to have been some hidden truth somewhere, and Layton’s role was to dig it out, no matter the cost. He sworn to himself that he would not lose faith, not this time. He wanted to believe in Raymond, he _had_ to believe in Raymond—and in Descole, too—because his brother could not be dead. There had to be some kind of trick to all of this.

Once more, Hershel Layton had faith.


End file.
